Curse of the Winchester People
by frostygossamer
Summary: A homage to the classic 1944 movie 'Curse of the Cat People' for Twelfth Night. Dean channels Amy and Sam channels Mr. Reed. Please comment if you know the movie.


Summary: A homage to the classic 1944 movie 'Curse of the Cat People' for Twelfth Night. Dean channels Amy and Sam channels Mr. Reed. Please comment if you know the movie.

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A/N: This is a homage to the classic 1944 movie 'Curse of the Cat People'. It has been my Christmas favourite for many years. If you haven't seen it I recommend picking up a copy.

It's a magical story seen through the eyes of an impressionable, lonely little girl who happens to live in the village of Tarrytown, where 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow' is set. The story revolves around the theme of motherly love.

If you're curious you can find a trailer for the movie on Youtube.

In my story Dean equates to the little girl, Amy, and Sam equates to her father, Mr. Reed.

Disclaimer: This story is a parody of part of the movie 'Curse of the Cat People'. No copyright infringement is intended and no financial gain has been made.

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Curse of the Winchester People by frostygossamer

* * *

It's dark and Dean has been driving through a heavy New York State blizzard for the last four hours. The road ahead is next to invisible. Dean screws up his eyes, trying to make out any landmark at all. Sam is map-reading in the passenger seat.

Suddenly Sam starts to jump around like a kid.

"Oh, oh, take the next right, Dean," he shouts, excitedly. "The next right."

Dean obeys. "Why? Do I dare ask?" he asks, wearily.

"Tarrytown! Well, Sleepy Hollow. They changed the name in '97," Sam explains, enthusiastically.

"And?" asks Dean.

"And, you know, the Legend, the Headless Horseman, the Washington Irving story..." Sam spells it out.

"Yeah! Saw the movie," Dean groans. "Johnny Depp, dude! Can he BE any more gay?" He laughs. "It's a STORY, Sam. Not real life. It's not a REAL freakin' ghost."

"Yeah, well..." Sam sounds deflated. He stares out the window. "Wait, wait, there's one!"

Dean draws the Impala up to the motel. The sign reads "Edward's Tarrytown Motel."

The guy in the office is a cheery Trinidadian. 'radiocalypso .com' issues from an internet radio on the counter. A sign reads "Free Wireless Internet." Always a good idea.

Mr. Edward greets them with a happy "Merry Christmas!" Sam rents a room.

"Hope we won't be around here that long," Dean remarks.

~o~

A few days, and a few more feet of snow, later they're still here. Sam stares hopelessly out the motel room window.

"No sign of letting up," he says. "Looks like we'll be here till New Year's."

Dean glances up from his girly mag and clicks his tongue.

~o~

That night Dean fidgets in his sleep. Nightmares are floating through his restless brain. Visions of coal-black stallions with coconut shell hooves and headless Hessians gallop around in his skull. He wakes up shouting "Whoa!" The sound hangs embarrassingly in the still air of the darkened room. Sam mutters and turns over without waking.

For some reason Dean suddenly feels uneasy. He fiddles with his ring, as he sometimes does when he's nonplussed.

"Mom," he whispers.

The faded lace curtains of the motel room stir in a faint draught he hasn't noticed before, and shadows stretch their fingers across the floor, as car headlights pass outside in the parking lot. Dean lies back against the pillows. He can remember that his mom, Mary, would lull him back to sleep, when he woke afraid, with a little lullaby. He forgets the words but he hums what he remembers of the tune to himself as Morpheus claims him again.

~o~

Next morning, while Sam is out getting groceries, Dean is bored. With nothing else to do he gets out John's journal and thumbs through it idly. In the back is jammed a photo, an old faded and creased one of his parents' wedding day. He smiles sadly at their careless, innocent young faces.

"Mom was so beautiful," he remembers, painfully.

The sound of Sam letting himself in the door startles Dean out of his reverie. He hides the photo and stuffs the journal back in his bag. Sam doesn't need this kind of regret right now.

Sam has brought eggnog and a small Xmas tree along with the groceries. They are from Mr. Edward. Dean moans so Sam shows him a bottle of bourbon. That he likes better.

~o~

Later that evening, as Sam sits watching on old Christmas movie on TV, Dean goes out to fetch ice for the bourbon and to get some fresh air. Spending so long in the same motel room is beginning to make him antsy.

While fiddling with the ice machine, which isn't working because it's too darn cold, Dean hears some pretty music issuing from another room and floating across the parking area. He pauses a moment to listen in silence. Is it the tune he was trying to remember last night? Another door opens. Inside the occupants are having a noise party and gaudy lights from the room glint surreally off some tinsel-decorated cars in the lot. Dean feels his spirits oddly lift a little. He grins.

And then he sees her.

She is swathed in a long filmy gown, which swirls around her form as she floats a couple feet off the ground.

"Mom," he gasps. The vision floats toward him.

"Who are you?" he asks doubtfully. "Why are you here?"

"You called me by my name," Mary replies, smiling benevolently.

"I've been lonely," Dean stammers.

"I'm here for you, Dean, just you," Mary murmurs. "But you must promise never to tell Sam about me."

Dean nods. Mary leans forward and, as Dean closes his eyes, kisses him ever so gently on his forehead. When he opens his eyes again she is gone.

~o~

On Christmas eve, Sam, once again laden with groceries, is talking to Mr. Edward's kids by the office. They tell him their dad has sent them to go carol-singing tonight. Sam tells them he never got a chance to do stuff like that when he was a kid. They're lucky.

"Guess we were never a very proper family," he says, regretfully.

Inside the room, Dean has been making something out of a Christmas decoration and he hides it in his pocket when Sam enters. Sam sets his purchases down on the table beside his brother. He notices some sparkly offcuts.

"You're not destroying my decorations, right dude?" Sam inquires, suspiciously.

"You're like a freakin' tall..." Dean reaches for a snarky comeback, "Princess!" he finishes, triumphant.

"Yeah, random squared," Sam automatically answers.

There's a knock on the door.

"Who the hell is that?" Dean groans.

"Shut up and open it, dude," Sam replies, grinning.

Dean opens the door to find the carol-singers, now a bigger crowd. Before Dean can tell them to haul ass Sam cordially invites them in. He has soda and candy.

Grumpily, Dean turns away from the gaggle of kids and stares out the window. As he does so he spots the wraithlike figure of Mary, once again in the car lot. Dean grabs his jacket and slips outside without Sam noticing, preoccupied as he is with feeding his visitors too much sugar.

There is no one else outside. As Dean approaches Mary, the ectoplasm surrounding her encompasses him in a luminous vortex. He hears his favourite lullaby vibrating the wintry air, thawing his soul. Dean gives Mary the present in his pocket. It is a protective talisman made of silver foil. She accepts it, laughing, and pins it to her gown. The night around them fills with stars.

"Wish you could enjoy Christmas with us," Dean pleads.

"You and I shall enjoy Christmas together," Mary promises.

At that momen,t Sam opens the motel room door and sticks his head out.

"Dean? Dean?" he yells. "Where the hell are you, dude?"

Mary vanishes. "Sure," says Dean.

He slowly walks back to the room and goes inside.

~o~

It's the night of January 5th, and the weather chick on TV says the snow is finally easing off. So they can leave soon.

While Sam is in the bathroom, Dean sneaks the tiny Christmas tree out the door, and tosses it in a garbage can outside. Coming back into the main room, now fully clothed, Sam spots the photo of John and Mary which has fallen out of Dean's duffel. His eyes narrow. He recalls how he has always felt cheated that Dean remembers their mom and he can't.

When Dean returns Sam challenges him about the photo.

"Why have you been looking at this, Dean? You know it's always kinda hurt me that I never got to spend Christmas with Mom. It twists me up inside when I remember that you have memories that I can never share," he stammers, struggling to hold back his tears.

"Sorry, bro," Dean apologizes. "Should have made her visit with you too, while she was here."

"What do you mean, Dean?" Sam demands.

"She was here, Sam, right here at the motel. I saw her. She's been here every night," Dean replies calmly.

Then, dropping his voice, he whispers, "She sings to me, Sammy."

Sam grabs Dean by the shoulders and shakes him.

"Mom has been here? And now I find out you've been keeping it secret!" he yells, losing it a little.

"She's right out there in the parking lot," Dean replies.

"She's there now?" asks Sam.

"She's there whenever I call her," Dean explains.

~o~

They go outsidem where Dean sees Mary floating and shimmering in the frosty nightscape.

"I want you to tell me if Mom is in the parking lot now," Sam insists, unable to see her.

"She's there," Dean replies.

"Where, Dean?" Sam asks, desperately.

"Right there, under the tree," Dean replies.

"Dean, there's nothing there," Sam declares. "There's no one at all in the parking lot."

Sam is exasperated. He can't see Mary. He can't see anyone. Why is Dean riding him like this?

"But she IS there," persists Dean.

Sam groans and storms off in a rage. This is too much this time. He needs to put some space between himself and his infuriating brother.

Dean watches him go. He goes inside and lies down on his bed, closing his eyes. After a long moment, Mary appears at the end of the bed.

"Out of your loneliness, you called me," she trills. "Now you must send me away. You'll remember me for a while, but then you'll forget."

"I'll never forget you. Don't leave me, Mom," Dean begs.

"Goodbye," Mary's voice echoes as she floats away out of the window and across the parking lot and beyond.

"I'll follow you," Dean says and, grabbing his jacket and keys, he dashes outside.

Dean jumps into the Impala and drives in the direction Mary went, to the Sleepy Hollow Glen, where his baby gets stuck in a snow drift.

Cooled down again, Sam returns to the motel room and finds Dean gone. He panics. Running all the way, he follows Dean's tire tracks to the glen, where he finds the Impala abandoned.

~o~

As Dean crosses the Sleepy Hollow bridge he thinks he hears the pocketa-pocketa of a vintage automobile.

"What the heck?" he exclaims, but the bumpety-bump resolves into the sound of horseshoes on stone. It's the Headless Horseman in the flesh.

In no way fazed by a piss-ant freakin' spectre, Dean jumps into its path and confronts it, waving his arms over his head like a demented traffic cop.

"Hi there, Chris my man!" he yells.

The sable steed is reined to a halt right in front of him, but then suddenly it rears high over him. As it drops, its near hoof grazes Dean's head and he falls unconscious in a snow drift.

~o~

At first Sam searches the glen aimlessly. Then suddenly he hears the EMF meter in his pocket sing out and he follows its signal along the path of the Horseman. Where there's something evil there he'll find Dean. He almost trips over his brother, who lies cold and motionless under a layer of snow.

He half-carries half-drags his limp brother back to the Impala.

By the time they draw up outside their motel room Dean is coming round. Sam parks the car.

"Thought I'd lost you," Sam says. "From now on I'm gonna believe you."

"Yeah, Sammy," Dean replies groggily.

"Is Mom in the parking lot, Dean?" Sam asks. "Can you see her now?"

"Yeah. I can see her," Dean says, hardly needing to look.

"I see her too, Dean," Sam lies. Dean smiles dopily.

But it's kinda true because Sam knows that he can, in his own way, always see his mom in his big brother's green eyes.

The End

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A/N: Published just in time for Twelfth Night. Hope you like it. I enjoyed writing it very much.


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